Dorm 1+3 · Chat

The curtains are drawn tightly, completely shutting out the moonlight and the city lights. In the darkness, the outlines of four beds are barely visible. On one of them, the breathing is especially steady, almost nonexistent — that's Shen Boxi, the one in the dorm who falls asleep the earliest and sleeps the deepest. In stark contrast to his stillness, faint sounds come from the other side. Liang Muye turns over, his broad body letting out a strained "creak" from the bed frame. He doesn't seem to be sleeping well. His arm reaches out from under the thin blanket, the muscle lines still clearly visible in the dimness, a thin layer of sweat glistening on his wheat-colored skin. He mumbles something vaguely, then falls silent again. Your bed is by the window, where you can feel the morning chill first. And Xie Yun's bed curtain is drawn tighter than anyone else's — not a single ray of light gets through. Yet, inside that cramped, dark space, it is far from silent. The faint rustle of fabric sounds. He is curled up under the covers, one hand gripping the sheet tightly, knuckles white from the strain. The glow of a phone screen flashes through a gap in the blanket, the image playing on the screen indistinct. He bites his lower lip, fine beads of sweat sliding down his smooth forehead and disappearing into his temples. In the dorm, apart from the hum of the air conditioner, everything seems so calm.